I'll Be Home For Christmas
by Bulletproof Bolly
Summary: Alex has been back in 2009 for four months now, but it still doesn't feel quite right to her or Molly. When she starts seeing strange reflections in the mirror, she knows that something has to change.
1. 24th December 2008

**Chapter One**

**  
** For the first time in the past four months, I was happy. I was with the one person I'd fought my subconscious to get back to- Molly. Ever since my return, I'd been working as hard as possible- I needed to forget about all the people I'd grown so attached to. They didn't exist, after all- the strange visions I had soon died away, and I was sure that they didn't matter. So sure, that I hadn't even mentioned it to any of the psychologists and psychiatrists that people had been throwing at me from mid-July all the way to September. In actual fact, I hadn't mentioned anything about those people to anyone. In the glass and steel maze, which made up modern-day London, it was easy to dismiss it all as a silly dream which wasn't worth any fuss. However, it had still been hard to settle in again. I wanted to show everyone at work that I was strong enough to do what I'd always done best- policing. However, at the same time, I knew from experience that working that hard would mean seeing less of Molly, and ever since my mind had come up with that stupid story about why my parents had died, I couldn't bring myself to ask Evan to take care of her. That was why I'd been delighted to wake up on the 24th of December and find that the modern world was covered in a thick blanket of snow.

People at work still didn't trust me behind the wheel in a traffic jam at rush hour; there was no way they'd ever expect me to try driving through snow. So I got to spend the day with my lovely daughter; the two of us curled up on the sofa, both wrapped in the large duvet from my double bed. I had to admit, I missed my tacky little flat above Luigi's, with all its red and grey, and that oh-so-80's sofa, but there was nothing better for me right now than a day in with Molly. I was enjoying the silence- as usual, I was tired, although for a change I didn't have a headache building up, waiting to hit me when I least needed it. I rested my head back, staring absent-mindedly at the ceiling.

Molly broke the silence. It was so quiet that I heard her opening her mouth to speak, and turned to look at her. Her face looked different- older, somehow. She appeared to be worried, although I decided against asking her what was wrong- she was about to tell me.  
"Mum, I need to ask you something." Her voice sounded older too. It didn't sound like my little girl's voice any more. There was something about it that reminded me of my mother, although I couldn't tell exactly what it was.  
"What, sweet?" Meeting Caroline, and being reminded of her just seconds before, had made me realise quite how much I loved Molly, and how cold I'd been towards her before what I now referred to as the 'Layton incident'.

She didn't answer me immediately- I could tell that she had no idea how to word her question, whatever it may be. It felt like hours before she actually opened her mouth to speak- although the time displayed on my DVD player made it quite clear that it was only a matter of seconds.  
"Who's Gene?" The name was enough to make my heart skip a beat, before it started pounding in my chest, almost as if it wanted to tell me something. Of all the questions she could have asked, why this one? "How do you know that name?" I could hear the confusion and fear in my voice, although I couldn't explain the latter. Why was I afraid of a child- my child- asking me a two-word question? Perhaps it wasn't the question I dreaded- it was the answer. It was the 'I don't know', which would be the simplest thing to say, but I knew it wouldn't work. I remembered what it was about Molly that reminded me of Mum- her determination. She wasn't going to take 'I don't know' for an answer, even if it was, partly, the truth. Who _was_ Gene Hunt?

My thoughts were interrupted by Molly's reply, "You said it when you were at the hospital. I was there." My daughter's answer was so... I didn't know how to explain it... it was so _articulate_. Each simple word was pronounced clearly, it sounded more like broken, textbook English than part of an actual conversation. In actual fact, it helped. It sunk in quicker than I think it would have otherwise.  
"Where was Evan?" I asked- actually, it was more of a demand for knowledge than a question. Ever since the visions of Gene had faded, I'd been sure it had just been a dream, but I still couldn't trust Evan, and perhaps he would have spoken to Molly about Hunt, if the two men had really met in the months preceding my parents' deaths.  
"He was there." The reply hit me like the car bomb which had killed Tim and Caroline Price, and a million questions rushed through my mind simultaneously, although they were all centred around one; _What did he say?_  
As if she'd read my thoughts, Molly added, "After you said it he told me he had a meeting and disappeared." I nodded as if I understood, although I didn't. I could feel bile rising up, I could taste it- the taste of my fear.

"You haven't answered my question." Molly pointed out primly. That did it. I snapped. I don't know why, but it was too much for me to bear. I had enough on my mind, didn't I? Why was this stupid child asking for answers, which I couldn't give? Did it _look_ like I had a crystal ball? _Calm down Alex. _I had to repeat those three words over and over again in my head while looking away for almost a whole minute before I could turn around and face my daughter again.  
"I can't." I repeated simply. The second the words were out, I regretted it. The look on Molly's face almost shattered my heart- she looked like a small child again, someone who nobody would let into the game, someone who nobody wanted or loved. But I did love her, a lot, and I wasn't sure whether she knew that. Judging by her expression, she didn't. Quickly, I set out to repair the damage. "I mean-"  
"I know what you mean- you don't want to tell me!" It was so unlike Molly to interrupt that I almost jumped when she cut me off. This sort of behaviour was so unlike Molly- it was so childish.  
"Of course I do, it's ju-"  
"Then why don't you?" The voice was so unlike Molly's now, it was becoming more and more Caroline with every sentence. I fought to keep calm, and surprisingly I didn't have to fight hard at all. My daughter, on the other hand, didn't even try. Before I knew it, she'd leapt to her feet and was storming up the stairs and slamming her bedroom door, shouting something which I couldn't quite make out. It happened so quickly. One minute we were there, curled up on the sofa, enjoying a quiet mother-daughter morning in, and the next she was gone.

My head started to spin, and followed my daughter up the stairs, although instead of entering her room I ran into mine, through to my en-suite bathroom. My sight blurred, I staggered to the sink, supporting myself on it as I bent down, retching. That was when I did a double take. I'd caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, but I looked wrong. I looked up and, surely enough, it wasn't my face looking back at me, but it was one I'd grown to know almost as well as my own- though I still had no idea what was going on behind those mesmerising grey-blue eyes.

That was when I slipped, and fell into a sea of peaceful blackness.


	2. 25th December 2008

**25th December 2008**

**  
**I woke up in my room, a set of grey-blue eyes looking down on me. At first, I thought that the vision from last night had not been a vision after all- that Hunt had found and forgiven me- that I was back. I felt a strange mix of feelings churning around inside me, getting ready to hit me. However, before they could, I recognised the eyes. They weren't Gene's at all- they were my Godfather's.  
"Evan?" I hadn't meant to make the name a question, but my voice seemed to have a mind of its own this morning, but I didn't let that bother me. I sounded awful- the two syllables of the name were slurred, and my voice broke on the 'n'.  
"Yes. Molly called me last night, she said you'd had a fight or something, and then she'd come to apologise and she'd found you in the bathroom, unconscious." I thought it sounded so weird, said like that, but I didn't say anything. I just nodded, and waited for him to say something else. I knew him so well now that I could tell that he hadn't finished, even though he was silent for the next few seconds. He then broke into a grin, "Merry Christmas, by the way!" I knew that tone of voice all too well- it was the 'I'm going to take your problems off your mind with a very expensive present' voice, and, surely enough, he added, "I'm going to go pick Marjorie and Bryan up- then you can open your presents when you get back." I hated the way he was talking to me- treating me like a little girl. It had never really annoyed me before the Layton incident, but ever since that silly dream, I hadn't been able to trust Evan quite as much as before.  
"Merry Christmas, Evan." I called hoarsely just as he stepped out of my bedroom, still smiling at me.

By the time Evan had returned, I was fully dressed and sitting on the sofa, chatting to Molly as if nothing had ever happened- only I knew it had. Marjorie turned up with the turkey and immediately confined herself to the kitchen to get it ready- refusing to allow anyone to help her. The rest of us merrily opened presents. I was glad to see that Molly liked the pink Vaio laptop Evan and I had bought her, and that Bryan and Evan both appreciated their Ralph Lauren jumpers. Evan, of course, went completely overboard- giving Molly an iPod touch although he'd already given me half of the money for the laptop. He really was ridiculous- and that was what I thought before opening the two presents he'd handed me. The first, which had come in a large box, was a pair of Jimmy Choo's, and the other was an extremely elegant and simple but gorgeous Armani evening gown- black and sequined. He always spent too much money on others, although I knew he always had plenty for himself.

The time passed quickly- Christmas crackers, jokes, Marjorie's excellent cooking... it was a happy Christmas, although I hadn't completely forgotten the previous day, and doubted that I ever would.

At half eleven, Marjorie stood up. Seeing her in my dream had made me realise that she'd hardly aged at all. Her hair was completely grey now, and her skin was, inevitably, more wrinkled than it had been, but she still had that shimmer in her friendly eyes. My thoughts were interrupted when she spoke- her voice the same as ever, "Well, we'd better get going." She told us all- pronouncing each word clearly and slightly exaggerating the movements of her lips (this had become a habit for her) for Bryan's benefit. Evan nodded and got to his feet, but I threw him a meaningful look. I could feel a headache coming on, which I attributed to the noise and champagne which had filled my house for the past few hours. I needed a drive to clear my head.  
"I'll drive you." I offered, articulating my words clearly, just as Marjorie had done.  
She and Bryan nodded simultaneously, and Evan gave me an approving look. Who did he think he was, my father? Well, in actual fact, he was probably more of a father to me than anyone else had ever been.

I led the way out to my car, and Bryan sat in the front with me to give me directions- even though by now I knew my way to the Drakes' and back with my eyes closed.

On the way to the Drakes', the car was filled with idle, quiet chatter about presents, and about Molly. Both of Pete's parents knew me too well to mention their son in my presence, or to ask about how I was getting on since my recovery. That was why I liked Marjorie and Bryan- they knew the golden rules of small talk, if such rules existed.

I dropped the couple off at their house- politely declining Marjorie's offer of a cup of tea. Seeing the house hurt more than I'd thought it would- it looked just the same as it had in my dream, and it reminded me of my last, exhausting few months there. With a polite smile on my face, I turned around and walked back to my car, starting the engine up. It purred to life.

While Marjorie and Bryan had been in the car with me, I'd felt pleasant- the light-hearted conversations had taken my mind off things, however, now that I was on my own all the questions and fears started coming back to me. I sighed and started to drive home, but the silence was too much for me. Reaching down, I switched the radio on- I didn't care what station it was, as long as it provided some sort of distraction.

The wrong song was playing. I wasn't particularly familiar with it, but I'd heard it a couple of times, 'Starts With Goodbye' by Carrie Underwood. It wasn't the beginning- it sounded like the chorus. The sound of the music didn't help block out the thoughts though, it just made everything so chaotic. I knew it was better than silence, though, so I just concentrated on the song harder, listening to the lyrics. That was the wrong choice.

_I guess it's gonna have to hurt,  
I guess I'm gonna have to cry,  
And let go of some things I've loved to get to the other side.  
I guess it's gonna break me down,  
Like falling when you try to fly,  
It's sad but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life...  
Starts with goodbye..._

I felt tears streaming down my face as I realised what the lyrics reminded me of. I had to move on with the rest of my life- I had to say goodbye to something that I loved. What did I love about this world? Molly. Where _was_ the other side? I didn't know the exact answer to that, but I knew what 'the other side' meant to me. It meant everything I'd ever tried to escape from, everything that I'd tried so hard to hate, but, deep down, everything I loved. There was just one problem- there was one thing that I loved, one person, who could never join me.

That was when the final chorus came round, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bright flash of a headlight. Instinctively, I looked up at the rear-view mirror, but I didn't see any headlights staring back at me- just a pair of bright, glistening eyes. Grey-blue eyes, eyes which I wouldn't miss anywhere.  
I gasped in shock, slamming my foot down on the brake. I don't know what happened next- it was all so fast- but I must have hit a sheet of ice. The car was spinning uncontrollably, but I couldn't take my eyes off the reflection, the end of the song still playing.

_Starts with goodbye,  
The only way you try to find,  
It's sad but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life,_

Darkness surrounded me, enveloping me, welcoming me into its inky depths. Two words escaped my lips of their own accord, "Goodbye Molls."

_Starts with goodbye...  
_

No copyright infringement intended- the lyrics used in this Fanfiction belong exclusively to Carrie Underwood.

Thanks to Mel, my brilliant beta!

The third and final chapter will be up later today!


	3. 25th December 1982

**25th December 1982**

**  
** Where was I? Even now, looking back, I don't know. Everything was bright- it was like I was walking in the blinding light which had greeted me when I'd first returned to 2008 four months ago. Then, something appeared in the whiteness- like a blotch of ink on a sheet of paper. I wasn't aware of any movement, but it looked like I was travelling, slowly but surely, towards the blackness. I didn't know whether I wanted to stop, or whether I should keep going- then I remembered something which I'd repeated over and over in my dream. I had to keep fighting. I wasn't fighting to move towards the blackness, so surely I had to try and move away. I willed my limbs to move- I attempted to force myself to turn around, but I couldn't. There was no feeling in my body at all- I tried to look down, but I couldn't move my eyes or neck either. It was like I wasn't in a body at all- like I was a mere apparition. Like I wasn't real.

The blackness was beginning to get closer, and, consequentially, larger. It was beginning to look like a black light, but that was impossible, there was no such thing. It was like a shadow- an area, which remained untouched by the light; but there was no boundary, nothing to separate the two areas and stop the light from reaching the blackness.

As it got closer (for now I was certain that it was the blackness moving towards me, and not the other way round), it seemed to speed up, and soon I realised that it was more like a huge black wall- so big that I couldn't see where it ended. I started to panic- I was still moving, and I was sure that I was going to crash in to it.

I didn't crash. It swallowed me, and suddenly I could move. It felt like I was swimming in a sea of ink- and yet I could breathe. My surroundings- whatever they were meant to be- started to move. It was a rhythmic movement- like the current of the sea on a calm day. Every second or so, it would pulse around me, moving me forwards. Sounds started to pierce the blackness. At first, they just sounded like stupid, pointless noises- the kind you heard coming from someone else's flat when they were extremely drunk. After a few moments, however, I started to make sense of them, started to identify them as voices, although I still couldn't understand what they were saying.

Mostly, they were women's voices, interrupted by the occasional male one. Suddenly, I regained the feeling in my body, and felt a sharp pain in my side. I opened my mouth to scream instinctively, and was surprised when none of the blackness rushed in to my mouth to drown me, though I couldn't make any sound.

Then, it started to thin out, and I recognised figures standing out against it. Two lights pierced the darkness- like stars. It was the night sky now. But the two lights weren't white- they were a pale, beautiful blue. They grew larger and brighter, until they chased away the darkness altogether, and I finally understood what they were- they were eyes. Beautiful blue eyes.

_Déjà vu_ was the first thing that crossed my mind. I'd woken up like this this morning, with two blue eyes looking down at me. Evidently, that had been a dream, and this was me waking up properly. But then I realised what was wrong- the face around the blue eyes wasn't Evan's. It was completely different, and yet the features were just as familiar as my Godfather's were.

"Gene." The word slipped out of my lips effortlessly. I couldn't read his expression, but I was sure of one thing; he'd moved on from the argument that had darkened my last couple of days in the '80s. I was sure that I was back- I recognised my surroundings from the visions of Gene which had haunted me when I'd first found my way back to the future.

I was exhausted, and my eyelids were fighting to shut, but I still couldn't look away from his eyes. He didn't say anything, and I don't know why. He shot me- surely the least he could do was say hi?

Just as I was thinking that, he opened his mouth to speak. _Please don't apologise! _I begged him mentally- I didn't know how to react if he did. I couldn't exactly say 'Oh it's okay', because I couldn't lie to him.

Fortunately, he didn't apologise. "Well, it looks like I've been a good boy after all- Santa did stop by." His voice was different- I'd never heard him sounding so... happy. I smiled tiredly.  
"Yes he did." I whispered back, although I wasn't quite sure what he'd been referring to.

I'd got what I wanted for Christmas- I was home at last.

Thanks to everyone who read this- it's my first ever fic. I really enjoyed writing it, and hope you enjoyed reading it just as much!

Thanks, to Mel for the brilliant beta! Without her I'd still be stuck choosing from a list of twelve songs to use in Chapter 2!

If you hang on until New Year's Eve, I'll have a little extra coming for you then!


	4. 31st December 1981

**31st December 1982**

The door of the Quattro opened, and I looked up to see those two gorgeous blue eyes looking back down at me. With a smile, I stepped out of the car, shivering. It was freezing, and my silver shawl didn't really help against the cold. As I started to walk towards the entrance, I almost lost my balance- perhaps strappy silver stilettos hadn't been the best idea. Luckily, Gene caught me; he still didn't seem to trust me on my own two feet, even though I'd been walking just fine since Boxing Day.  
"Steady, Bols." He muttered into my ear, causing me to roll my eyes in irritation. This wasn't a date, not really- he'd only asked me to go with him because we both had to go, and neither of us wanted to turn up alone.

We walked up the stairs together, our arms still linked, and entered the luxurious venue of the New Year's Eve Policeman's Ball. We deposited our coats (well, in Gene's case a coat, in my case a scrap of silver cloth) in the cloakroom before heading to the actual ballroom. I rolled my eyes for the second time that night when Gene gave me an impressed look upon seeing quite how low-cut my dress was.

I'd gone for an 'Old Hollywood' style- a simple, shimmering evening blue gown with a tasteful pair of silver and diamond earrings. Overall, I'd been impressed with the way I looked- although I'd lost quite a bit of weight in the past month and a half.

The night seemed to crawl by extremely slowly- I soon got dragged away from Gene by our new Super, and the Guv always seemed to have a crowd of desperate women around him, even though he didn't seem to want to dance.

At about eleven in the evening, I finally managed to escape from my own crowd of admirers. The wound in my side was beginning to sting, and I needed to get some air. Slowly, I made my way onto the large terrace, which was almost completely vacant, save for a small group of highly senior officers talking about politics and money. It was so quiet here, a half hour's drive away from London, and yet so empty and clear. It was cold, but that was welcome after the cramped warmth indoors.

I was staring up at the stars, inhaling the cool night air, when I felt the warmth of another person beside me. I looked around, and saw those two gorgeous blue eyes looking down at me again- brighter than any of the stars in the sky that night. Gene handed me a glass of champagne, which I took gratefully.  
"Cheers." I muttered, holding the glass up. He clinked his against mine, and we both took a sip.  
"Bollinger," he noted, smiling. He looked beautiful that night- his navy blue suit, which seemed to be an extremely similar colour to my dress, and brought out his light colouring. His hair was combed back neatly, but there was a stray strand, giving him that beautifully _real_ look- I didn't know how else to describe it.  
"Shall we get going soon?" He suggested, interrupting my thoughts regarding his sheer gorgeousness.  
"I think we'd better at least stay until the countdown- you know how it is; after Mac, we need to keep the station's reputation up." I replied earnestly; even though part of the reason that I didn't want to go was that we'd hardly spent any time together, and I wanted a chance to at least have a little informal dance; even if it was just as colleagues- with this clean-shaven, tidy Gene.  
"I'm a copper, not a politician, Bolly." He replied, but the discussion didn't go any further. We both just stood there, looking at the large grounds and the clear night sky.

After what felt like hours of silence, I felt a warm hand on my bare back, and looked up to see the commissioner of the Met standing behind me. He wasn't the most attractive of men, or the nicest of people.  
"May I have this next dance?" He asked me, his voice overly polite. _Slimy git_, I thought to myself, but it wasn't like I had an awful lot of choice. I was just about to nod when I heard a voice beside me- a gorgeous, familiar voice.  
"Actually, DI Drake and I were just about to go in for a dance- weren't we, Alex?"

I looked up at him and nodded, "Yeah." I hoped that I'd disguised my gratitude, at least enough to hide it from the commissioner. The rejected man turned around and walked off- no doubt to find someone else to make him look good, and I gave Gene a grateful smile.  
"Well, he's not going to back off if he thinks I lied to him, is he, Bols?" He whispered into my ear. Before I could react, he was leading the way to the dance floor, our arms linked.

I didn't mind dancing with him- on the contrary, I'd been dreaming about this for ages, but I wasn't sure all of a sudden. My shoes were really beginning to bother me, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself. I was just about to tell him that when he pulled me to the edge of the floor and placed a hand on my waist. I took his other hand and positioned my free one on his shoulder.

They say time flied when you're having fun; and it's true. Before I knew it, we'd been dancing for a full half hour, and everyone met up for the countdown to 1983. I should've found it ironic that this was the second time I was counting down to that particular year, but I was too enveloped in the beauty of the moment- still struggling to believe that Gene was standing beside me with his arm around my waist- that I just enjoyed the event, momentarily forgetting all about 2008.

After a couple of drinks and half an hour of chattering to random people in the crowd, I started to feel tired again. I'd lost track of Gene, and I just needed some fresh air. I made my way out to the terrace again and leaned against the edge in the same way as I had done before; relishing the cool air against my skin.

"Too much champers?"

I looked up to see Gene again and smiled, "No- it was just a bit stuffy in there." I replied, pushing myself up to a proper standing position. I'd forgotten about my unstable stilettos, and the second I tried to straighten up, I felt myself tumbling towards the ground. But I never hit the stone cold floor. I felt two strong arms around me, and when I opened my eyes- which I'd instinctively closed- I saw that Gene had caught me, and was holding me against his chest to support me. He chuckled.  
"Don't put yourself back into hospital, Bols." He scolded me jokingly as I pulled away, blushing with embarrassment.

Everything else happened so quickly. In a split second, he'd pulled me back into his arms, and my hands had somehow ended up on his shoulders. He reached down, and our lips met. At first it was awkward, but within a couple of seconds it started to feel amazing- this was where I was supposed to be, what was supposed to happen between us. It was perfection- seventh heaven.

It was over too quickly, and when he let go I felt my legs go from under me again. This time it wasn't because of the heels; it was just the disbelief, the amazement... I'd just gone completely useless. Gene caught me again, laughing even harder this time, although I was still blinded by the beauty of the moment.  
"We'd better get going." I said quietly after a couple of seconds. I stepped away, managing to stand up properly this time, and shivered- I hadn't realised quite how much cover and warmth Gene's arms offered. He must have noticed, as he shrugged out of his navy jacket and placed it gently around my shoulders. I hugged it around myself gratefully as I started to lead the way back to the main building- I wanted to get home before dawn.  
"Wait up, Bolly!" Gene called as he strode after me and picked me up. "You're not walking anywhere; you can't be trusted." He whispered into my ear. I didn't even bother to complain, his grasp was too warm, and he was too stubborn.

We received numerous dirty looks as Gene carried me through the ballroom, my head resting against his chest and my hands gripping his shirt. Now I felt even more like an old Hollywood star than I had done upon seeing my reflection when I'd first tried the dress on- in the arms of a gorgeous hero.

I must have fallen asleep on the way out- when we reached the Quattro and Gene tried to put me down, I was clinging stubbornly to his shirt, too exhausted to move. I was awake for the first couple of minutes, but then I fell asleep again; Gene's driving was much more civilised than usual, and I could feel a seatbelt holding me snugly into the seat.

While we drove home, I had a dream- the first non-nightmare in ages. I dreamt about him, nothing in particular- I just saw his face in my mind, watching over me while I slept; my constant, my guardian angel.

I was where I wanted to be, of that I was sure, because when I awoke, I saw those eyes looking back at me, protective, gentle and beautiful.

And it's been the same every morning since.

Well, that's the end...I hope you liked it!

Once again, thanks loads to Mel, my **amazing** beta reader!


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